Brothers
by Eryn
Summary: Set after Asylum. Dean and Sam find themselves embroiled with some ghosts again. Final Chapter is now up.
1. Chapter 1

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and WB. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after Asylum (I'm pretending their father didn't call at the end of the episode!) and set before Scarecrow. Enjoy!

**BROTHERS**

**by Eryn Grant**

**  
CHAPTER ONE**

"Never do that again," Dean threw himself into a booth. "If you ever do that again, I'll kick your ass so hard you won't be sitting down for a week," he glared at Sam angrily. He grabbed the menu and cast his eyes over it avoiding looking at his brother.

"Dean," Sam pleaded. "I don't remember a thing," he said.

"I'm not talking to you," Dean hissed. He looked up from the menu glowering at Sam. "Or listening to you."

"Dean," Sam pleaded. Dean ignored him pretending to study the menu. Sam sighed in defeat slumping opposite Dean in the booth. He stared out of the window miserably. He genuinely didn't remember part of their journey. He had been taking his turn at driving. Dean had been dozing beside him. The music had been on low. He had been humming to himself. He didn't remember turning the music up high, didn't remember pressing his foot down on the gas pedal forcing the Impala to race along the dusty road at a speed Dean rarely used.

He sighed to himself desperately searching the depths of his memory but his mind remained a total blank. He did remember Dean grabbing the steering wheel and yelling at him to stop. Startled he had stamped on the brake and they had skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust and stones. Despite his protests, Dean had continued to yell at him ordering him out of the driver's seat. Sam had continued to object but Dean had shot him one of his warning looks and turned the music up even higher ignoring him. Apart from the music they had driven the last fifteen minutes in total silence.

"Can I get you boys anything?" the waitress interrupted Sam's thoughts. She smiled at the brothers her pen poised over her order pad. She was in her early sixties with her greyish hair tied back into a girlish pony tail. Her blue eyes sparkled making her face look younger. She was dressed in a neat skirt and white blouse topped off with a red apron. "Special's good," she encouraged with a smile. "Made it myself fresh this morning."

Dean scanned the menu again before smiling up at the waitress. "Two coffees and two specials," he ordered. He shot Sam a glare daring him to argue with his choice. Sam chose to remain silent. He looked down fiddling with a napkin.

"I'll be right back with the coffee," the waitress smiled sympathetically at Sam. Sam smiled back. Suddenly tired, he slouched back in his seat rubbing at his forehead with his hand.

"You OK?" Dean stared at him and Sam didn't miss the concern on his brother's face.

"I thought you weren't talking to me," Sam said.

"I'm not," Dean shot back. Sam rolled his eyes at Dean. Dean just shrugged his shoulders staring out of the window. "Just don't want you getting sick."

"It's just a headache," Sam replied with a small smile.

Dean turned back staring at Sam. "You never just have a headache," he noted with a frown.

Sam glared at Dean anger suddenly bubbling up from nowhere. "Well this time it's just a headache. No visions. No premonitions. Nothing. OK?"

"OK," Dean put his hands up in surrender. "Just checking." Dean went back to staring out of the window at his beloved Impala. He sighed to himself hating it when Sam was mad at him. He frowned to himself realising that just recently Sam seemed to be mad at him all the time. Dean knew that Sam wanted to talk about what happened at the Roosevelt Asylum, but he just couldn't bring himself to open up, even to his brother. Dean had decided a long time ago that nothing was going to touch or hurt him so he buried his demons deep forcing his emotions down and hiding behind a carefully constructed front that he had developed over many years. But the more time he spent on the road with his brother, the thinner the armour was becoming and Dean was terrified that his guard would crash down around him revealing the real Dean for all to see. Dean shivered at the thought absently rubbing at his chest. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind instead concentrating all his thoughts on the damage Sam could have done to his car if he hadn't woken up in time.

Sam couldn't help noticing the flicker of hurt that crossed his brother's face at his outburst. He turned away so he didn't have to see it. But it didn't stop him hating himself for causing the look. Ever since the creepy Dr Ellicott had touched him, Sam had felt his anger and frustration spiralling out of control. He knew it was getting worse and it was taking all of his self-control not to lash out more often. Sam knew, deep down, that he wasn't angry with Dean he was angry at their father. But as usual their father was missing so he took all his frustration and rage out on Dean. It wasn't fair. Dean didn't deserve it but Sam couldn't help himself. Sam looked back to this brother who was staring out of the window, his usual unreadable expression fixed on his face.

He shivered slightly as he remembered the feel of the cold steel in his hand as he pointed the gun at Dean. The anger he had suddenly felt had fuelled his hateful words and he had felt himself pulling the trigger. Sam shivered again. He was terrified that it would happen again and this time the gun would be loaded. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.

The air between them was heavy with tension like a dark cloak threatening to slowly choke and smother them. The silence seemed deafening. Sam hated it and he knew that Dean did too. He took a deep breath. "Dean," he bit at his bottom lip. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Dean dragged his attention away from the Impala back to Sam. He regarded his brother for a moment. As usual his anger had disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced. Dean had become practised in burying it deep along with all the other anger and hurt he had collected over the years. He gave Sam a small smile. "Me too," he shrugged.

Sam could almost feel some of the tensions between them lift and he smiled back. Leaning forward. "But I swear that I don't remember a thing," Sam was earnest. "It's just a total blank."

"OK. Whatever," Dean shrugged again. "But you're not driving for a while." Dean stared out of the window again at the Impala. He turned back to Sam. "Maybe never again."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's just a car," he muttered. Dean scowled. "OK. OK," Sam put his hands up. "I give up. The Impala is not just a car. It's ... it's," he struggled for a description that would satisfy his brother. Dean waited patiently a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "A thing of beauty," Sam finished.

"Better," Dean smirked. "So," he leaned forwards. "What do you remember before you tried to total my car?"

Sam was surprised at the change of subject. "Nothing," Sam screwed up his eyes again. "Except maybe a voice," he reached into the depths of his mind. "It was whispering something."

"Like what?" Dean interrupted. "I know," he grinned. "You must piss your older brother off by driving like a maniac and killing his car."

Sam glared at Dean as he flopped back frustrated. "I don't know," he sighed.

"Probably the ghost," a voice interrupted them. They both turned staring up at an older man who had two mugs of coffee in his hands. In his mid-sixties, the man's grey hair flopped over his forehead partly hiding his clear blue eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a checked shirt and a red apron. Smiling he pushed their coffee towards them. "You came into town on the old dust road. Right?" Sam and Dean nodded at the man. "Well there you go," the man smiled down at them. He leaned forward. "That road's haunted," he nodded knowingly.

Sam and Dean shot each other a look. "How do you know?" Sam asked curious.

"Just do," the man replied as though that explained everything. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and grinned at them.

"Quit scaring my customers," the waitress came up behind the man, two plates in her hands. "With your silly ghost stories."

"I was only," the man started to say.

The woman shot him an angry look and he looked down biting at his lip stuffing his hands in his apron pocket. "Don't you pay him any attention boys," she glared at the man again. "It's just a stupid story. There's no such thing as ghosts."

Dean shot Sam an amused look. Turning back he noted the look on the man's face and immediately felt sorry for him. "We don't scare easily," Dean smiled up at the waitress. "It's not problem." She smiled back at Dean before laying their plates in front of them.

"Wow," the man had been staring out of the window miserably. "Is that yours?" he pointed towards the parked Impala. "She's a beauty," he breathed.

Dean looked up from his food. "Yeah," he grinned up at the man.

"What year?" the man continued to stare at the Impala.

"1967," Dean answered simply.

"I've got a late 50's model out back," the man turned to Dean. "Maybe you'd like to come and see it." His expression was hopeful making him look younger than his years. "Frank," he stuck his hand out towards Dean. "That's if you've got the time."

Dean smiled up at the man. "Dean," he took the offered hand. "And this is my little brother Sammy," he waved his other hand at Sam knowing that the use of his nickname would annoy his brother. He smirked at the look on Sam's face.

"Frank," the waitress protested. "Let the boys eat their meal in peace."

"Sorry Hannah," Frank said not able to hide the disappointment from his face. He looked towards Sam and Dean. "Sorry," he mumbled at them. "Maybe later?" he asked hopefully.

Mind made up Dean scooted along the seat. "How about now?" The movement jarred his chest a little and he sucked in a breath. Sam looked up but was stopped from voicing his concern by a warning look from Dean. Dean slid out of the booth. "Dinner will wait." Frank beamed at him. "Lead the way Frank," Dean patted the man on the back.

Hannah put her hands on her hips and sighed. "I guess I'll put your brother's dinner in the oven to keep warm," she smiled down at Sam. "While they do whatever they do."

"It's OK," Sam nodded. "I don't get it either."

* * *

Dean followed Frank out of the diner and round the back. There parked in a car port was a gleaming red Impala its silver trim glinting in the sunlight.

"Oh wow," he whistled. "A 1958," Dean breathed as he walked round the car marvelling at the body work and the condition. "I have died and gone to heaven." He peered in the open window at the immaculately kept interior. "Does it run?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Frank replied with a proud smile. "I keep it running." He ran his hand lovingly over the hood. "Do you like it?" he asked eagerly.

"Are you kidding?" Dean grinned. Frank grinned back pleased. "How's it drive?" Dean asked as he ran his hand carefully up the side of the car.

"Oh I don't drive it," Frank admitted as he absently polished an invisible mark on the hood with a cloth from his pocket.

"You don't?" Dean asked incredulously. He looked back to the car wondering why somebody wouldn't want to drive such a beautiful car.

"I just keep it running and shiny," Frank explained.

Dean just nodded. "Can I start it up?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," Frank beamed at him again as he tossed the keys at Dean. Dean caught them easily. He carefully opened the door expecting it to creak. Silence. Dean smiled to himself knowing that every clunk, creak and groan that his Impala made was all part of its personality and what made it special to him. No car would ever replace it not even this beauty. He shook his head berating himself for being silly. Dean made himself comfortable behind the steering wheel and cautiously turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared into life. He ran his hands over the dashboard as the engine purred.

Frank peered in the window. "How does it sound to you?" he asked anxiously.

"Like music to my ears," Dean grinned at Frank as he pressed his foot on the gas pedal making the engine roar again. Frank grinned at him. Dean carefully switched off the engine. "You've done a really great job." He jumped out of the car carefully closing the door. He handed the keys back to Frank.

"I promised," Frank muttered absently. Dean pulled a face noticing that Frank's expression had become distant and withdrawn. He was staring into the distance over Dean's shoulder with a sad faraway look on his face. He sensed that he had touched a nerve somehow. Dean frowned deciding not to press the man any further on the car. Folding his arms. "So about this ghost and the haunted road," Dean said.

Frank turned back to look at Dean. He shrugged. "It's just a ghost," he murmured. "Hannah," he stared at Dean. "She's my sister you know. Don't like me talking about it."

"I won't tell," Dean said.

Frank shook his head. "Hannah's right. It's just a stupid ghost story," he frowned turning his back. "We'd better get back. Hannah will have kept your dinner warm for you," he disappeared around the side of the diner.

Dean narrowed his eyes staring at Frank's retreating back. He sighed. Turning he took another look at the Impala. "What a beauty," he couldn't resist touching the car again.

"Help me," he heard in his head and Dean jumped back as though the car had burned him. He looked around. No-one was in sight. Dean stared at the car. "No," he shook his head. "Couldn't be." He looked around again hoping to see someone. "I'm becoming as freaky as Sammy," he muttered to himself as he hurried back to the diner.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and WB. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after Asylum (I'm pretending their father didn't call at the end of the episode!) and set before Scarecrow. Enjoy!

**BROTHERS**

**by Eryn Grant**

**CHAPTER TWO**  
**Research and Explanations**

An hour later the two brothers were sitting in a motel room a few blocks from the diner.

"The car talked to you," Sam laughed. "The car talked to you," he repeated choking on his giggles. He leant forward putting a hand on Dean's forehead checking for a fever. "Are you OK?"

Dean swatted Sam's hand away. "You mean apart from the fact that my chest still hurts like a bitch because my brother shot me," he snapped not able to help himself. He looked down at his feet his anger surprising him. Dean thought he had pushed it down inside, but the misery he had felt at Sam's hurtful words was still raw gnawing at him. He looked up immediately regretting his harsh words when he saw the guilty look on Sam's face. Sam opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by Dean putting his hand up. "Don't," Dean said.

Sam ignored his brother. "We have to talk about it sometime Dean," he said quietly.

Dean glared at Sam for a moment then softened his expression. "I know," he sighed. "But not right now. OK?" he pleaded.

Sam stared at Dean for a moment. He was surprised at what he saw. Fear and hurt had flickered across this brother's face for a brief moment then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He didn't want what happened at the asylum to destroy their relationship but at the same time Sam didn't want to hurt Dean any more than he already had. He sighed quietly but reluctantly nodded in agreement. "So tell me about the car again," Sam quickly changed the subject before he changed his mind.

"I already told you," Dean sighed. "I touched the car and it talked to me." He got up from the bed and paced up and down the room.

"Yeah right," Sam leaned back in his seat. "You are taking this love affair with cars far too seriously."

Dean glared at Sam. "So geek boy," he waved at the open laptop. "Found anything interesting?"

"Nothing that involves talking cars," Sam quipped with a giggle as he moved towards the laptop.

"I may just have to hit you with the damn laptop if you don't quit it about talking cars," Dean threatened.

"OK man," Sam said calmly as he turned the laptop around so Dean could see the screen. "Apparently a Steven Williamson killed himself back in the late fifties up on Lake Road. That's the dusty road we came in on."

Dean snorted. "How could I forget," he said sarcastically.

Sam ignored his brother. "Witnesses say that he drove his car off the highest point on the road down into the lake. The car exploded and his body was never found."

"Could be our ghost," Dean nodded. "Suicide can make a spirit angry."

Sam nodded. "But the really interesting thing is," he scrolled down the article a bit further. "That his older brother David died on the same road about two weeks before. Also no body was found. And how he died remains a mystery."

"Great. Two ghosts with no bones to burn," Dean said. "Well that's just peachy." He stared to pace up and down the room again.

Sam twisted his head watching as Dean paced. "There was a witness to David's death but he was found unconscious at the wheel of his car and couldn't remember what had happened." He looked back to the screen. "The sheriff assumed that David had fallen or jumped into the lake." He shrugged. "What do you think?"

"Beats the hell outta me," Dean stopped pacing to stand behind Sam. He leaned over Sam's shoulder peering at the faded photograph at the bottom of the news article. It showed three boys standing together arms around each other smiling into the camera. "That's Frank," he pointed at the shorter boy in the picture.

"Are you sure?" Sam squinted at the screen unconvinced by his brother's confidence. "This picture was taken more than forty years ago."

"Can always pick out a fellow car enthusiast," Dean grinned at his brother.

"So the other two boys are probably David and Steven," Sam muttered.

"I think we need to go and have a little chat with my man Frank," Dean said grabbing his jacket off the bed. Sam closed up the laptop and followed his brother out of the door.

* * *

Dean scanned the diner for Frank as Sam slid onto a stool at the counter. "Hello boys," Hannah appeared from the kitchen. "Come back for some of my apple pie?"

Sam nodded with a grin. "Two pieces please." Hannah turned to cut the ordered pie.

Dean hopped onto the stool next to Sam. "One of those had better be for me," he whispered.

"Do you see anybody else in here?" Sam asked. Dean was tempted to stick his tongue out but settled on pulling a face.

"Thank you for what you did this morning," Hannah said over her shoulder to Dean. "It was very kind of you."

Dean blushed slightly and Sam stifled a giggle at his brother's reaction to a genuine compliment. Dean nudged Sam hard in the side which made his brother squeak and hit Dean's arm in retaliation. "No problem," he glared at Sam. "The car's a beauty."

"He loves that car," Hannah turned round. "You made his morning."

Dean blushed again. "We were looking for Frank," he said looking around the diner. "Is he about?"

"He's running some errands for me," she answered as she placed the pie in front of the brothers. "He'll be back in a couple of hours." She wiped at an invisible stain on the counter with a cloth. "Anything I can help you with?" She moved down the counter tidying menus, cutlery and napkins as she wiped the counter down.

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. Sam nodded. "We were wondering if Frank could tell us anything about David and Steven Williamson," Dean said.

Hannah looked up from her cleaning her face pale with shock. "Now what makes you ask about them?" she moved back towards the brothers. "They're long dead."

"Just curious," Dean shrugged.

"It's what Frank said about a ghost isn't it?" she asked. "It's just a stupid story. Nothing else. I told you to pay no mind to Frank."

"Did you know them?" Sam asked quietly. "We'd really like to know about them." Hannah stared at each of the brothers in turn. "Please," Sam persisted.

Mind made up Hannah let out a deep sigh. "Yes I knew them," she smiled slightly at the memory. "They were our cousins. And Frank worshipped them especially David." A look of sadness crossed her face. "It nearly killed him when David died. And then Steven... I don't think he ever got over it," she waved a hand towards the back of the diner. "I think that's why the car is so special and important to him."

"It belonged to them?" Dean asked.

Hannah nodded. "Frank helped them look after it. You know... washing it, polishing the inside... that sort of stuff."

"Is this Frank?" Sam asked spreading a copy of the newspaper article out on the counter. He pointed to the shorter of the smiling boys.

Hannah leaned forward. "Yes," she smiled. "That's Frank. I remember that picture being taken. My mother took it out back," she sighed. "A month later Steven and David were dead." Hannah moved towards the kitchen. "I'll be back in a moment."

"So you do think Frank knows anything about David's death?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean shrugged. "I think we need to ask him."

"And we need to take the EMF up to that road," Sam said. "See if we can get any readings."

Dean nodded in agreement. "But I'm driving," he reminded. Sam pulled a face but kept silent.

"Here you go," Hannah returned laying a large framed photograph on the counter for them to look at. Sam and Dean looked down to see the exact picture they had copied from the newspaper. The quality was better and they could see that the three smiling boys were leaning against the Impala. "Apart from the Impala, it's Frank's most precious possession," Hannah lightly touched the photograph. "That's David," she pointed to the taller boy. The one on the left is Steven."

"What were they like?" Dean asked curious.

Hannah smiled. "Pretty much like any brothers. Like you two," she nodded her head at them. Dean and Sam looked at each other frowning and Hannah chuckled. "Yep just like you two." She pushed two mugs towards them and poured them a coffee. "They spent a lot of time around here. Their mother died when they were little and their father... well their father was a mean drunk," she sighed. "He didn't have much time for them. So they really only had each other. But it always seemed enough for both of them."

Sam stared at Hannah his eyes wide. "How old were they when they died?" he managed to ask.

Hannah screwed up her face. "Let's see I was about eighteen so that makes Frank twenty." She nodded to herself. "So that would make Steven twenty-two and David twenty-six. Hannah turned to get the coffee pot. Sam went to shoot Dean a knowing glance but Dean was staring down at the photograph lost in his own thoughts. "They were good boys. Argued about a lot of stuff but deep down they loved each other. Steven and Frank were doing to open a garage together and work on cars. And David... well David wanted to be a lawyer. He got himself a scholarship and went back to school."

Sam nearly spat his coffee out. He coughed as the hot liquid hit the back of his throat. "Are you OK?" Hannah asked concerned.

Sam coughed again as Dean gently patted his back. "Yes I'm fine," he gasped. "Coffee's just a bit hot."

Dean gave him a strange look but remained silent. "Why was David here when he died?" Dean looked back to the photograph. He smiled to himself. He had one just like it of Sam and himself leaning against his own Impala safely tucked away in his wallet. His father had taken it just before Sam had left for college. Like Frank's photograph it was a treasured possession. Dean looked back to Hannah. "Shouldn't he have been in school?"

"Yes," Hannah replied sadly. "But he took a year off to be with his brother. Help him get started in his garage."

"Thanks Hannah," Dean slid off the stool. "Can I go and take another look at the car?" he asked.

"Sure," Hannah replied with a grin. "Help yourself. Go through the kitchen." Dean nodded and headed towards the kitchen. Sam watched as Dean disappeared. He turned back to Hannah and smiled.

"So Sammy," Hannah started to say.

"It's Sam," he shot automatically.

"I'm sorry Sam," Hannah pronounced his name carefully. "I bet Dean is the only one allowed to call you Sammy."

Sam frowned at the woman. She leaned forward. "David used to call his little brother Stevie. It drove Steven mad."

"I know the feeling," Sam interrupted.

"But he would only let David get away with it," Hannah smiled at the memory. "But I think he secretly liked David calling him Stevie. It was just one of their things."

Sam frowned again. "Dean does it on purpose to drive me crazy."

"Oh I doubt that's the only reason," Hannah smiled knowingly. "So why do you want to know about David and Steven?"

"Just interested," Sam replied vaguely. "We thought we might be able to help."

Hannah studied Sam. "It's just that I don't want Frank hurt again. And every time something happens up on that road, he gets upset and starts talking about ghosts again."

"We wouldn't want to hurt Frank," Dean said coming up behind Hannah. "We just want to help if we can."

"What do you mean every time something happens up on the road?" Sam asked.

Hannah looked from Dean to Sam. She sighed. "Not many people around here drive on that road. There's been a number of unexplained incidents up there."

"What kind of incidents?" Dean asked as he slid back on the stool next to Sam and took a sip of his coffee.

"Accidents to do with cars and young men mainly," Hannah replied. "Back in the fifties the kids around here used to race their cars up on Lake Road. It's the straightest piece of road we have around here and its got the added thrill of the sharp corner at the top of the hill where...," she paused for a moment. "Well after David and Steven died, the kids stopped using the road," she sighed as she continued. "But every few years or so the kids start up the racing again and there is always some kind of accident."

"Go on," Dean encouraged gently.

"Six months ago twin brothers were killed on the road racing their cars. They went over the edge," Hannah explained. "And Frank got all upset again. Having horrible nightmares... talking about ghosts and hauntings again and stuff that doesn't make any sense." She looked at Sam and Dean earnestly. "That road has haunted him for over forty years. All his dreams died with David and Steven. It's just me and Frank now... and I just don't want him hurt anymore."

Dean nudged Sam. He put his hand over Hannah's. "I promise we won't hurt Frank," he said. "Or talk about David or Steven to him. OK?"

"Thank you," Hannah said. "I really appreciate that."

Sam went to say something but was stopped by Dean tugging on his sleeve and dragging him off the stool towards the door. Dean gave Hannah a small wave as he opened the door. He shoved Sam outside. Hannah watched as Dean and Sam left the diner side by side. She could see they were arguing. "Yes just like them," Hannah turned back to her cleaning.

"I thought you were going to ask Frank about David and Steven?" Sam argued as they walked towards the Impala.

"Well I changed my mind," Dean snapped.

"But," Sam continued to protest.

Dean stopped and Sam nearly ran into his back. "Look Sammy," Dean's expression hardened as he whirled on his brother. "We are not going to ask Frank any questions. You heard what Hannah said. So... end of discussion." Dean turned and stalked towards the Impala.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's back. "OK," he conceded. "Did you get any readings off the car?" he shifted the subject away from Frank.

The Impala's door groaned as Dean opened it. He slipped into the driving seat. "Nothing," he answered.

Sam couldn't help himself as he took his place in the passenger seat. "So it's not talking to you?" he teased. "Perhaps you hurt its feelings somehow."

Dean turned sideways glowering at Sam. "Bite me," he hissed as he turned the ignition. Gunning the engine, he headed the Impala out of town towards Lake Road.

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and WB. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after Asylum (I'm pretending their father didn't call at the end of the episode!) and set before Scarecrow. Enjoy!

**BROTHERS**

**by Eryn Grant**

**CHAPTER THREE**

**Lake Road**

Fifteen minutes later...

Dean drew the Impala into the side of the road. Turning off the ignition, he jumped out of the car and looked up the road.

"Why have we stopped here?" Sam moved around the car to stand next to Dean. "The bend's further up the road," he pointed up the road. "We'll get our best readings up there."

"I know that," Dean said impatiently. "I'm not stupid."

"So why?" Sam started to say.

"You suddenly got a problem with walking?" Dean cut in as he pulled the EMF meter out of his jacket pocket. He started to walk up the road.

"Just wondering," Sam answered evenly as he jogged to catch up with Dean.

"Last time we were up here," Dean turned to his brother. "You got all weird and tried to break the speed record in my car. I'm not chancing that happening again." He cocked his head to one side. "Unless you suddenly got a death wish."

Sam shook his head at the threatening look on his brother's face. "Good call," he smirked at Dean.

"Damn straight," Dean said as he turned on the EMF and put in the ear plugs.

"Dean," Sam said quietly. "Do you think it's a bit weird about David and Steven?" He waved his hand in the air unsure how to continue.

"Weird how?" Dean glanced sideways at Sam taking out one plug so he could hear what Sam was saying.

"You know," Sam said exasperated at himself. "Like... well I mean... like," he stammered.

"Spit it out man," Dean said. "Before it chokes you."

"Well they're kinda like us," Sam explained.

"Where did that come from?" Dean stopped staring at Sam.

"Dean," Sam said irritated at his brother's hard-headed refusal to see what was in front of his eyes. Sam counted off his points on his fingers. "Their Mom died when they were little. Their Dad didn't care about them. They're the same age as us. Even their initials are the same as ours. They have an Impala. And one of them wanted to be a lawyer."

"What have you started living in the twilight zone now?" Dean snapped. He knew Sam was right. It had occurred to him as well as he had been staring down at Frank's photograph and listening to Hannah. Each piece of information stabbed at him but he was determined not to admit it to himself or Sam. "Hannah said that the older brother wanted to be a lawyer. Do I look like lawyer material to you?"

"You could be if you wanted to be," Sam replied stubbornly.

Dean scowled at him. "And Dad does care."

"OK," Sam conceded reluctantly not wanting to get in an argument about their father. "But everything else is the same," he persisted.

"Nothing like us at all Sammy," Dean ignored the look Sam was giving him as he started up the road again. He put the ear plug back into his ear to shut out what Sam was saying.

"And that's another thing," Sam shouted after Dean. "David used to call his brother Stevie," he ran to catch up with his older brother. "And he hated it as well." Dean signalled at his ear plugs pretending he couldn't hear.

"I hate you sometimes," Sam muttered to himself. He didn't really mean it and immediately felt guilty but he could feel the frustration building within him again. He took a deep breath stamping it down firmly.

Sam followed Dean as they walked up the road. Dean waved the EMF from side to side and up and down in front of him as he scanned the area for any readings. The meter stayed silent. They reached the top of the road.

"Do you think this is where it happened?" Sam asked as he looked over the side of the cliff. The surface of the cliff walls at the top was rocky and uneven but smooth and even as it tapered down to the clear blue lake at the bottom. Clumps of vegetation, brush and tree roots grew out of the cliff-side.

"Could be," Dean shrugged as he looked around. "The EMF's not picking anything up." He moved away from the cliff edge still waving the meter in front of him.

Sam shivered. "There's something here," he murmured. "I can feel it." He moved to join his brother. Sam hated to admit it but he felt safer in closer proximity to Dean.

"The EMF says there's nothing here," Dean said.

"Dean," Sam protested. "I'm telling you something is here. It's the same feeling I had when I was in the car," he looked around.

"Well at least you can't speed this time," Dean quipped with a grin. Sam rolled his eyes at Dean but gave him a small smile. "So what's it saying this time?" Dean glanced around wishing he had thought to bring his favourite shotgun with him.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't know. It's faint." He opened his eyes frustrated. "But something is definitely here."

They heard it at the same time and they turned to look down the road. The familiar rumble of an engine. "Not again," Dean muttered to himself. He nudged Sam. "And before you ask," he waggled the keys at Sam.

Without warning the Impala shot over the top of the hill. The roar of the engine filled the air as the car headed straight for them. Dean shoved Sam who stood frozen his mouth open. "Sam," he tugged hard on Sam's sleeve to get him to move. Dean decided on a different tactic than the last time in Jericho. He pulled Sam behind him as he raced down the hill towards the speeding car.

"Are you nuts?" Sam shouted.

"Oh yeah," Dean shouted back. The roar of the Impala's engine seemed to grow louder as the car bore down on them. "Follow me and stay close," Dean shouted over the noise. Dean counted to ten. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Sam was following him. On ten, he raced to the other side of the road as the Impala screeched past them missing them by inches.

"Good move," Sam bent over resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "Stupid, but good."

Dean grinned at him. "I don't think we're done yet," he gasped pointing at the Impala. The car stopped near the bend at the top of the hill. Without warning the Impala reversed. The wheels spun on the road kicking up dust and stones as it turned towards them. The engine revved over and over and with a squeal of tyres the Impala shot forwards heading towards them again.

"Dude you really have got to have a serious talk with that car of yours," Sam yelled at Dean as the brothers started to run down the road.

"It's your fault," Dean yelled back. "Your freakiness is affecting my baby."

They ran side by side as fast as they could. Dean risked a look over his shoulder. The Impala was gaining on them and he could almost smell the gas in the air. The sound of the engine, usually music to his ears, was deafening and threatening. His car was trying to kill them. Dean shoved at Sam making him weave from side to side in a desperate effort to avoid being run over. The engine revs got louder as the Impala closed in.

Sam looked over his shoulder. The Impala was inches away from him. He swerved to the right yelping as the car veered towards him catching him a glancing blow with its wing. Sam stumbled pushing Dean forwards. The brothers hit the dusty road hard rolling against the impact with the ground. The Impala's insistent roaring dulled to an idling murmur until it died completely. Silence. Sam coughed as he looked up shaking the dust from himself. Dean was still rolling towards the edge of the cliff. "Dean," Sam shouted in panic as his brother disappeared with a yelp over the edge. "Dean," he dragged himself to his knees and crawled to the cliff edge.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and WB. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after Asylum (I'm pretending their father didn't call at the end of the episode!) and set before Scarecrow. Enjoy!

Thank you for all the lovely reviews - they are very very much appreciated. 

**BROTHERS**

**by Eryn Grant**

**CHAPTER FOUR**  
**Rescue and Nightmares**

Dread filled him as Sam peered over the edge half expecting to see Dean lying broken at the bottom of the cliff. Relief replaced the dread flooding through him as he saw Dean hanging by one hand from a tree root sticking out of the cliff-side. He was swinging his body gently desperately trying to grab hold of the root with his other hand.

"Are you OK?" Sam shouted.

"Do I look like I'm OK," Dean looked up at Sam.

Sam knew that Dean's sarcasm was borne out of fear so he bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. "Hang on," Sam lay down and eased himself closer to the edge of the cliff. Sam could feel the soil at the edge of the cliff moving as he cautiously sidled forwards. He stopped frozen as part of the edge of the cliff fell away. A shower of dust, soil and stones rained down on Dean.

Dean turned his head away from the shower of stones yelping as some of the sharper stones struck his face. He tightened his grip on the tree root moving his fingers slowly upwards as he tried to get a firmer grip. The muscles in his arm and shoulder screamed in protest. His chest was on fire and he gasped in pain. He grit his teeth against the pain and looked up to Sam. "Some rescue you're pulling off up there little brother," he quipped. He coughed as another shower of dust hit him.

"Dean," Sam shouted. "For once in your life, just shut up. And hang on."

Dean's hand slipped slightly and for the first time in his life he couldn't think of a smart reply. He knew he shouldn't but he looked down and immediately felt light-headed at the dizzying drop below him. He gulped and looked back up towards his brother. "I can't hang on much longer," he croaked. Dean swung his body again trying without success to grab onto the branch with his other hand. He could feel his grip weakening as his fingers and hand became numb. "Sammy," his voiced wavered.

Sam could hear the fear in his brother's voice and he eased himself closer to the edge. Taking a deep breath Sam moved forwards until he hung over the edge digging the toes of his boots into the soft dirt to give himself some sort of anchor against falling.

"Let him fall," a voice popped into his head. "You don't need him. You don't even like him."

Sam shook his head trying to banish the voice from his mind. His head hurt and his eyes wouldn't focus so he moved back from the edge looking around him as he sat up. "No," he whispered to the voice he knew wasn't his. "He's my brother. I love him."

Sam thought he felt a sharp intake of breath. "You think he's pathetic," the whisper in his head continued to taunt him. "You said so."

"No," Sam closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple. "Leave me alone."

"Sammy," Dean's voice broke into his thoughts. Sam could hear the thinly veiled panic in his brother's voice. "Are you still up there?"

Sam shook his head again shutting out the voice and pushing down the pain. His brother needed him. Laying back down he squirmed on his stomach cautiously moving forwards to hang back over the edge. He dug his toes back into the soft dirt. "I'm here Dean," he stretched reaching his hand towards his brother. His finger tips brushed Dean's hand.

"I can't hold on," Dean gasped.

Sam felt Dean's hand slipping on the root away from his grasp and saw the look of terror on Dean's face. "No," he yelled as he made a frantic grab for Dean's hand. Somehow Sam managed to seize Dean's wrist gripping it tightly just as Dean's fingers let go of the root. "I've got you," Sam grimaced as he took the brunt of his brother's weight. "Now don't let go."

"Not planning on it," Dean rasped with a crooked grin. Dean wiggled his fingers until he felt his hand close around Sam's wrist.

Sam drew back slightly in order to get his balance. He dropped his other hand down offering it to his brother. Dean took a deep breath and swung his body towards the cliff-side carefully and brought his other hand up. Sam reached for Dean's hand. The sound of skin against skin seemed to echo around them and Sam blew out the shaky breath he was holding. He curled his hand around Dean's gripping it tightly. He started to wriggle backwards pulling Dean up towards him slowly. When he thought it was safe, Sam drew himself up into a sitting position digging his heels in and pulled with all his strength. Dean's head appeared over the top of the cliff and Sam dragged him to safety. Once Dean was safely back on the road, Sam flopped backwards panting with his efforts.

They lay side by side trying to catch their breath. Dean was panting hard and holding onto his chest rubbing at it absently with one hand.

"You OK Sam?" Dean rolled his head towards his brother.

"I think that's my line," Sam chuckled turning his head towards Dean with a nod. He noticed that Dean was rubbing at his chest. "What about you? Did you hurt your chest?"

Dean raised his eyebrows surprised at the question. He shook his head. "No it's fine. Just a bit sore."

Sam bit at his bottom lip turning away from Dean cursing himself for his forgetfulness. "Sorry," he muttered wondering how he could have forgotten that he had shot his brother in the chest. He rubbed at his head.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with your head?" he asked as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Nothing," Sam lied having decided not to tell Dean about the voice in his head.

Dean regarded his brother for a moment. "So," he decided to change the subject. "You think whatever was here has gone?" he waved his hand in front of them.

Sam struggled into a sitting position. He looked around. "I can't feel it," he said. "Wonder why the EMF didn't pick it up?"

"You got me there," Dean got to his feet. He offered his hand to Sam pulling his brother to his feet. "Thanks by the way. For not letting go," he gave Sam a small smile.

"If I had let you go," Sam grinned at Dean. "You'd have only haunted my ass."

"Damn straight," Dean grinned back. "Let's get back to the motel. We could both do with a shower and good night's sleep."

Sam nodded in agreement following his brother towards the Impala. "Do you think it's safe?" he eyed the car suspiciously.

"She's my baby," Dean ran his hand along the side of the car lovingly. "She knows me."

"Yeah," Sam laughed. "And she just tried to kill you."

"She was probably just having an off day," Dean defended patting the car again.

"Dean," Sam said exasperated.

* * *

Dean rolled over looking towards the other bed. He scrubbed at his face trying to focus on his brother. As his vision cleared he could see that Sam was murmuring in his sleep rolling his head from side to side. Sam's mumbling became louder as he sunk further into his nightmare.

Dean was just about to get out of bed when Sam startled him by sitting up with a terrified scream. Untangling himself from the sheets, Dean kicked them onto the floor as he scrambled over to the other bed. "Give me a heart attack why don't you," he muttered to himself as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Sammy," Dean took Sam firmly by the shoulders and shook him gently.

Sam turned his head towards Dean but his eyes were unfocused and staring past Dean. "I killed you," he rasped. "I killed you," his breathing hitched higher and he gasped. Dean could see the tears in Sam's eyes.

"It's OK Sammy," Dean soothed. He could feel his brother trembling and he gently rubbed at Sam's arms trying to calm him down. "You didn't kill me. Everything's OK." Sam grabbed for him holding on tight and Dean could feel Sam's fingers digging into his arms. He flinched slightly but continued to hold Sam whispering soothing words.

Sam's grip on his arms slackened. "Help me," he whimpered as he flopped forwards into Dean's arm. Dean carefully lowered Sam onto the bed. Before he could check on him, Sam rolled over on his side asleep, his breathing deep and even.

"Well that's new," Dean frowned as he pulled the comforter up over Sam. Dean returned to his own bed. Dean lay looking up at the ceiling. He rolled his head to one side. Squinting he could just about make out his brother his deep breathing calming him slightly.

Being with Sam was important to him. He had missed Sam so much when he had left for college and Dean had forgotten what it was like to have Sam with him. He felt less lonely and he admitted to himself that it felt good to feel close to someone again. But he was still afraid and he cursed himself for his cowardice. Dean knew that Sam wanted to talk about the events at the asylum, but he just couldn't bring himself to deal with a guilt-ridden Sam. But now Sam was suffering because of his stubbornness and that was even harder to bear. Dean sighed and rolled onto his back again. He vowed to himself that he would bring the subject up tomorrow. Dean shivered at the thought and pulled the comforter up higher willing sleep to come.

Dean woke to the smell of coffee. He looked sideways to see a mug, steam rising, on the bedside table. He scrubbed at his face and pulled himself up. He grabbed the mug and took a quick sip. The hot liquid hit the back of his throat rousing him slightly.

Sam was sitting at the table laptop open in front of him. "Morning," he said over his shoulder.

"How long have you been up?" Dean asked struggling into a sitting position.

"About an hour," Sam replied.

"Did you sleep OK?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam turned to look at his brother. "Why?"

"No reason," Dean lied. He frowned. Sam always remembered his nightmares and he sensed that Sam wasn't lying to him this time. Dean couldn't help feeling a little worried that his brother didn't seem to remember last night. Dean felt a guilty relief run through him knowing that, despite his promise to himself, he could safely put off the planned conversation. He knew, deep down, that he was just putting off the inevitable - Sam wouldn't let it go.

Sam stared at his brother nearly missing the look of worry that flickered across his brother's face. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared so Sam decided to ignore it for now. "I'm just doing some more research on Lake Road," he said.

"Find anything interesting?" Dean got out of bed and wandered across to stand behind Sam.

"Funny you should ask that," Sam grinned up at his brother. "I have been checking the local records on the deaths up on Lake Road. Since the late fifties. Not including David and Steven. There have been ten."

Dean nodded. "And?"

"Most of the deaths have been car accidents. But some are just……. well unexplained. The last two deaths. The ones Hannah told us about. Were a Peter and Alan Johnson. But get this," he restored a screen he had minimised. "I checked the local police records. And they were the grandsons of the only witness to David's death, Paul Johnson."

"Interesting," Dean nodded taking another sip of his coffee. "That could be something."

"I thought so," Sam said. "But then I checked the police records. The other people who died have no connection to either of the brothers. So I'm thinking it must be something else."

"OK," Dean agreed. "But what?"

"Well," Sam said. "The only connection I can find amongst the victims is that everyone who has died up there is related to each other somehow. You know……. like brothers, or brother and cousin or brother and father."

"So," Dean slumped down on the edge of the bed. "How many ghosts do you think we're dealing with up there?"

Sam thought for a moment thinking about the voice in his head. "One definitely."

"I think it might have something to with the Impala," Dean muttered.

"What makes you say that?" Sam turned towards his brother.

"I don't know," Dean snapped. "I just do."

"What," Sam said. "Because it talked to you?"

"No. It's just a feeling," Dean glared angrily. "You don't have the monopoly on weird feelings."

"OK," Sam scowled at Dean not convinced by his brother's thinking. "But Dean why is he killing people that are related? It doesn't make any sense."

Dean took another sip of coffee. "Beats the hell outta me," he put his mug to one side. "But you know as well as I do that spirits do weird ass stuff for all kinds of weird ass reasons."

Sam nodded in agreement. "So all we have to do is figure out why and what before anyone else gets killed." He gave a frustrated sigh.

"Any ideas?" Dean asked.

Sam bit at his lower lip knowing that Dean would hate his suggestion. He took a deep breath. "I think we need to have a talk with Frank."

"No," Dean exploded jumping to his feet.

"But Dean," Sam said calmly. "I think he knows more than he's letting on."

Dean whirled on Sam. "No. We... I promised Hannah. And I like Frank. So no," he said determined.

"But...," Sam continued to protest.

"What part of no don't you understand?" Dean yelled.

"Dean," Sam said. "He may not know it but I think Frank can help us. You said yourself it has something to do with the car." Dean started to pace up and down the room. "And if you are right," Sam continued. "It's all connected. The car. Steven and David. Everything."

"Maybe," Dean blew out a breath.

Sam caught the look on Dean's face. "So you think Frank can help us too?"

"We're not talking to him," Dean replied. "And that's final."

"Fine," Sam turned his back on Dean and began angrily tapping at the keys of the laptop. He could feel his frustration rising but he took a couple of calming breaths. Sam agreed with Dean about Frank but hell would freeze over first before he admitted it.

Dean continued his angry pacing for a few minutes. He started counting in his head trying to calm himself. "OK. So how do we get rid of these spirits? We've got no bones to burn? So what does that leave us?"

Sam turned back to Dean. "Well I have an idea," he said. "Got a couple of things from Dad's journal," he pulled the book towards him turning to the page he had marked. "It says here that we can use these verses, throw some herbs and stuff," he pointed to his father's scrawl. "There's a list here. And it's as good as burning bones in some cases."

"OK," Dean nodded. "What's the other thing? You said a couple."

Sam took a deep breath before continuing. "It says to burn everything connected with the spirits. I doubt from what Hannah said that Steven and David had much. But I think we definitely need to burn the Impala."

"What?" Dean exploded again. "No. It's... it's," he stuttered. "Are you sure?"

Sam nearly laughed at the look on Dean's face but managed to stifle his giggles. "Says so here," he tapped on the page of his father's journal. "It belonged to them so it has to go."

Dean cocked his head to one side and threw his hands up. "Really?" he asked miserably. Sam nodded. "What about Frank?" Dean asked. "He loves that car. It'll kill him. I can't do that to him," he continued his pacing and Sam thought his brother was in danger of wearing a hole in the carpet.

Sam thought for a moment. "Then we'll have to steal it, drive it somewhere and then burn it. It might be easier on him if he thinks the car was stolen."

"What a bitch," Dean slumped down on the bed. "This really sucks," he scraped his hand through his hair.

"Look," Sam offered. "I'll do the car. You go up to Lake Road and do the verses and throw the herb concoction."

Dean looked up at Sam tempted by the offer. "No," he shook his head in resignation. "I'll handle the car. I owe Frank that much."

"OK," Sam conceded. "I'll drop you off. Pick up the stuff I need and then head up to Lake Road."

"This really sucks," Dean repeated as he headed towards the bathroom for a shower.

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and WB. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after Asylum (I'm pretending their father didn't call at the end of the episode!) and set before Scarecrow. Enjoy!

Thanks again for all the lovely reviews. I am glad you are enjoying the story. I am enjoying writing it.

**BROTHERS**

**by Eryn Grant**

**  
CHAPTER FIVE**

**Sam and Steven**

Sam checked the bag making sure he had everything he needed. He'd just empty it all into one bag and then sprinkle it over the cliff-edge as he recited the words to the verse he had found in his father's journal. He smiled to himself when he remembered the look on Dean's face when he had said that burning the Impala was one of the things they had to do to get rid of the spirits. Dean had even given up his wallet without an argument so that Sam could purchase the materials he needed. He had dropped Dean off at the diner and watched as his brother had slung his holdall over his shoulder. Sam had nearly laughed at the dejected slump of Dean's shoulders as he had made his way around to the back of the diner.

Balancing the bag on the hood of the Impala, Sam flipped open the wallet to put the change back. He couldn't help himself, curiosity getting the better of him. Sam looked around guiltily as he thumbed through the contents. Hidden near the back of the wallet he found a credit card in Dean's own name and his driving licence. The other contents included some cash, a couple of old movie ticket stubs, some money off vouchers for pizza and burgers and a business card from an undertaker in Virginia. Sam felt mildly disappointed although he wasn't sure what he was hoping to find. His long fingers skimmed the internal pockets once more. A fingernail caught on something concealed in the last compartment. Carefully Sam pulled out two photographs and stared down at them. They were of himself and Dean. The oldest photograph had been taken while they were children. They were standing on either side of a snowman they had built outside Pastor Jim's house. In the second photograph they were leaning against the Impala grinning into the camera. Sam remembered that the picture had been taken just before he had left for Stanford.

Sam shook his head not able to believe that Dean carried the photographs around with him all the time. He slid them back into their hiding place, pocketed the wallet, grabbed his package and slipped into the driving seat of the Impala placing the bag carefully on the passenger seat.

Turning the ignition, he headed the car towards Lake Road. As he drove, Sam's thoughts turned to Dean. Over the past few months, he had thought he had gotten to know Dean a bit more but the photographs proved that he still had a long way to go. Sam found his brother intriguing. On the surface Dean always seemed so confident, determined, strong and so sure of himself to the point of recklessness. He was stubborn, sarcastic and his temper was quick to surface and even quicker to disappear. He had a quick wit and a dry sense of humour which he used in the most odd, and usually dangerous, situations.

But Sam was more interested in the man within, the man that Dean carefully hid behind his armour of self-assurance and noise. The man within had surfaced a few times but his appearances were rare and when they did occur Dean seemed almost embarrassed by them deflecting them onto to Sam and calling them "chick flick" moments. Dean only showed the world what he wanted everybody to see but Sam had learned by watching his brother that despite his noisy persona, Dean was a sensitive, gentle and kind-hearted man. His sense of loyalty to those he loved rivalled no man and his quest to seek out every supernatural evil being and kill it made Sam's head spin sometimes.

He had to admit to himself that he enjoyed being with Dean and desperately wanted to be close to his brother, like they had been as children. But Dean being Dean kept him at arm's length not letting Sam in. Deep down he could understand Dean's uncertainly and mistrust. It was all his own fault. He sighed knowing that he had probably ruined any chance of being close by shooting his brother with rock salt and then threatening to kill him with his own gun. But Dean being stubborn didn't help matters either. "Stubborn ass," Sam cursed under his breath.

"You hate him," the voice popped into his head again. "Don't you remember you think he's pathetic," the voice taunted.

Sam thought he saw a reflection of a young man in the driving mirror. "No," he blinked against the sudden pain in his head. His vision became blurry and he blinked again. "No," he whispered as the world faded into a blur around him.

"Faster," the voice encouraged. Sam pushed his foot down on the gas pedal making the Impala's engine roar. He reached over and turned the music up loud. The scenery flashed by in a green and brown blur as he pressed his foot down again. Sam laughed as the wind blew his hair over his eyes. He risked taking a hand of the steering wheel to push his hair out of his eyes. The Impala wobbled on the road but he managed to steer it into a straight line. "Let's see how fast this baby can go," he yelled to himself. Gripping the steering wheel Sam pressed his foot down even further. The revs of the engine screeched as his speed edged up another notch. Sam could feel the power and energy of the Impala surrounding him and it made him feel good. The Impala thundered along the road kicking up dust and stones in its wake.

Sam was singing along with the music although the deafening purr of the engine drowned him out. His head started to ache and he tried to push the pain away. Slowing slightly he rubbed at his temple with one hand. "No," the voice screamed. "It'll soon be over." Suddenly in his head Sam could hear a voice crying out to him full of pain and despair. He shook his head rubbing at his temple again. Images flashed into Sam's mind and he let out a small cry of pain. A snowman. Two boys laughing as they built the snowman and threw snowballs at each other. Another stab of pain and another image flashed into his mind making his headache worse. A shiny black car. Two young men laughing at their father as he tried to get the camera to work. "Dean," he whispered.

His vision came back into focus and Sam was startled by the bright sunlight, the loud music and the roar of the engine. He glanced down at the needle panicked at the speed he was travelling. Sam looked up and saw the bend approaching. Terrified Sam stamped on the brake and turned the wheel hard to the right. He couldn't help himself he closed his eyes as he pressed his foot harder on the brake again. He could hear the squeal of tyres on road and the whining sound of the engine as he braked hard. The Impala skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust a few feet from the cliff-edge. Sam slumped forwards onto the steering wheel fighting to get his breathing under control. Pushing the door open Sam got out of the car. He ran his eyes over the outside of the car making sure there was no damage. Apart from being covered in dust, the Impala seemed undamaged. "Dean is so gonna kill me," he murmured to himself realising that his headaches had mysteriously disappeared.

"Then let's help him out," the voice encouraged.

"Where are you?" Sam took a step backwards. "Show yourself." He looked to his right as the figure of a young man shimmered into being in front of him. "Steven?" he asked.

"Yes," the young man grinned. "But you already knew that." Sam stepped back towards the Impala his hand reaching out. "Oh no," Steven waved his hand and the car door slammed shut. He grinned at Sam.

Ignoring Sam, Steven moved towards the Impala. "Nice car," he ran his hand up and down the side of the car. "And fast," he turned to Sam. "This beauty would have beat all the kids in town."

"Don't touch it," Sam snapped stepping forward. "It's my brother's car and he don't like just anybody touching it."

Steven sneered at him but took his hand off the Impala. "My brother had an Impala. Our father gave it to him when he got his licence," he said. "But he used to let me drive it sometimes."

"Did you ever race it?" Sam asked curious despite himself.

Steven cocked his head to one side. "Never the Impala. I raced my Mustang," he looked towards the cliff-edge wistfully. "She was beautiful and fast. Beat all the kids and their lame ass cars. But she was never as fast or as beautiful as the Impala."

"Is David here?" Sam asked looking around.

He noticed a flash of pain on the other man's face. "No," Steven answered sharply. "I'm here all alone," he grinned evilly. "Well except for you."

Sam felt himself being pulled by an invisible force towards the edge of the cliff. He struggled against the energy trying to drag him forwards but the grip on his body tightened. "He won't miss you," Steven taunted.

"I can help you," Sam shouted. He managed to step backwards. "My brother and I can help you."

Steven glared at Sam. "No-one can help me. Not you. Not your brother. Nobody. Ever."

"What about your brother?" Sam persisted as he fought against the force battling to get control of his body. He reached backwards for the Impala, his hand gripping the door handle.

Steven scowled at Sam at the mention of his brother. "He left me alone," he spat bitterly. Sam felt his hand slipping and with a jolt he was catapulted forwards inches from the cliff-edge. An icy hand touched his shoulder and he shivered. The pain in his head returned and Sam groaned as pictures flashed into his mind again.

A nightmare. Sam couldn't remember having one but it felt vaguely familiar and he thought he remembered Dean shaking him and telling him that it was alright. Sam could now see his nightmare but this time more clearly as though he was right in the middle of it. The roaring of car engines and loud music assailed his senses. Looking to one side, he could see the grinning face of the other driver, someone he didn't recognise. The steering wheel turned hard to the left and he felt the jolt as the second car was hit. Sam could hear triumphant laughing and looked back over his shoulder to see the second car slide to a stop on the side of the road. Sam cried out as the pain in his head got more intense. In front of him the headlights of the car illuminated a shape in front of the car. A cry of panic filled his head as the car hit something solid. A scream of terror. Then an eerie silence.

Sam's vision came back suddenly and he dropped to his knees trying to get his breathing under control. He screwed up his eyes as he remembered the voice in his nightmare crying out. Sam looked up towards Steven. "You killed David," he said horror in his voice.

Steven turned away from him hugging himself. "It was accident," he croaked. "I didn't see him. I would never hurt David. He was my brother."

Sam dragged himself to his feet. He cautiously moved closed to Steven. "But why are you here? Why are you hurting people?"

Steven narrowed his eyes at Sam. "Because they have each other," he answered simply. "David left me alone. I loved him and he left me alone."

"Steven," Sam started to say.

"No," Steven interrupted. "You have him. You have someone. You'll always be together no matter what."

"I nearly killed my brother," Sam stammered as he recalled the coldness of the gun in his hand as he pointed it at Dean. He remembered the hurtful words spilling out of mouth and the small feeling of triumph as each word seemed to hurt Dean. He shook his head to rid himself of the painful memories. Sam knew then that he would do everything in his power to make it up to Dean. "I shot him with rock salt," Sam admitted. His voice shook at the admission but he bit down determined to get through to Steven. "And I would have killed him if he hadn't given me an unloaded gun."

"But he's still with you," Steven protested. " I'll always be alone because of what I did to my brother." Steven looked away from Sam and pointed downwards. "It's so beautiful down there," he tormented. Sam couldn't help it. He looked down at the clear blue lake at the bottom of the cliff. He felt the icy hand on his shoulder again and he looked sideways at Steven. He was smiling. Sam's vision faded into a blur of colours again. He desperately fought to gain control of his body as he felt his feet move. Sam's last thought before he sank into nothingness was of Dean.

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and WB. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after Asylum (I'm pretending their father didn't call at the end of the episode!) and set before Scarecrow. Enjoy!

Thanks for all the lovely reviews - its lovely to see that people are enjoying the story. Thank you.

**BROTHERS**

**by Eryn Grant**

**CHAPTER SIX  
Dean and Frank**

Dean didn't look over his shoulder as Sam roared off in the Impala. He hadn't even threatened Sam with all manner of torture if he damaged his car. He felt too miserable. Moving around to the back of the diner, Dean checked to his left and right that nobody was in sight. He dropped his holdall on the ground with a sigh as he looked over to the shiny red Impala. Nothing would ever replace his own Impala but the car in front of him was a thing of beauty too.

In his mind, Dean could see the beautiful car being engulfed by flames as he stood by watching. He could almost hear the crackling of the fire, smell the burning leather and metal as the car disintegrated and burned before his eyes. He could imagine himself standing next to the charred twisted remains of the Impala and he shivered at the thought. He sighed to himself. Dean knew that Sam was right but it didn't make what he was about to do any easier. He liked Frank. And the Impala, well it would be like burning his own car. He shivered again at the thought.

Dean sighed again picking up his holdall as he moved closer. He couldn't resist one final look. He wandered around the car the finger tips of one hand carefully caressing the paintwork as he moved. Doing a full circle of the car, he bent down peering in the window looking at the perfectly kept interior. "This sucks," he said to himself as he straightened up coming face to face over the top of the car with Frank.

"Hello Dean," Frank smiled at him. "Come to look at the car again?"

"Damn," Dean thought to himself. He gave Frank a small smile. "Couldn't resist it," he lied trying frantically to think how he was going to get Frank away from the car so he could steal it and then burn it. He groaned inwardly at the thought.

Frank beamed at him. "Are you OK Dean?" he asked frowning. "You look a bit pale." Frank moved around the car to stand next to him.

"I'm fine," Dean gave Frank another small smile.

Frank nodded. He stared at Dean biting at his lip. He took a deep breath gathering all his courage. "You believe me don't you?" he stuttered nervously.

Dean frowned at Frank not immediately understanding. "Believe you about what?" he asked his mind still on coming up with plan to steal the car.

"The ghost," Frank answered. "You and your brother believed me when I talked about the ghost and the road." Dean raised his eyes in surprise and Frank smiled at him. "You didn't look at me funny that first time in the diner. Then you asked me about it when we went out back and you... you looked serious. And I dreamed you did," he creased his brow for a moment. "At least I think it was a dream," Frank shrugged. "But sometimes I get all confused... so I never know," he looked into the distance lost in his thoughts. "He said you could help."

"Who said?" Dean asked confused by Frank's ramblings.

"David," Frank looked back to Dean. "At least I think it was David. It... it sounded like him."

"David talked to you?" Dean said as he leaned on the Impala.

"Yes... no... I think so," Frank looked confused. "I dream about him all the time. Hannah doesn't know," he rattled on. "She just gets upset. So I don't tell her."

"Frank," Dean said gently deciding to ignore his promise to Hannah. "You know what happened to David, don't you?" Frank turned away. "You were there. Paul Johnson wasn't the only witness was he?" Dean held his breath. He could almost feel the older man fighting with his thoughts and hidden memories. Frank turned back to Dean. Tears were in his blue eyes and Dean immediately regretted asking him questions. "It's OK. You don't have to tell me," Dean soothed.

"No," Frank replied. "It's about time. It's been over forty years," he wiped at the tears and nodded slowly. "And I know you'll believe me. Won't think I'm some kind of nutcase." He nodded slowly. "Yes I was there."

"What happened?" Dean asked quietly.

Frank took a deep breath. "Paul Johnson never really saw what happened. He was out of it. Knocked out when his head hit his windscreen," he sniffed wiping at his tears again. "Steven and Paul were racing their cars up on Lake Road. David found out and he was really mad. He hated Steven racing. Said someone would get hurt. It was one of the things they always fought about," he looked at Dean who nodded at him to continue. "David and me went up to Lake Road in the Impala looking for Steven." Frank bit at his lip.

"Go on," Dean encouraged gently.

"We got up there and David told me to stay in the car. He made me promise to look after the Impala while he was gone. Anyway, we could see them coming up over the hill. Steven was winning as usual. Then he side swiped Paul's car. Paul went off the road and I think that's when he knocked himself out," Frank took another deep breath. "David got out to flag Steven down. Make him stop. Tear him off a strip. But... but it was dark," Frank's tears were flowing freely again and he wiped at them frustrated. "And ... and Steven never saw him... until it was too late."

"You mean," Dean's mouth dropped open in shock. "Steven hit David with his car?" Dean suddenly knew who the spirit was on Lake Road and why he was angry and bitter. He started to worry a little knowing that Sam was up on the road alone. Dean turned back to Frank listening as the older man finished his story.

"Yes," Frank stuttered. "I saw the car hit David and he... he flew up in the air and went over the cliff. But it was an accident," Frank shivered. "Steven didn't mean it. I know he didn't."

"I'm sure he didn't," Dean soothed.

"I saw Steven get out of his car and run to the edge of the cliff," Frank said. "I thought he was going to jump. But he just screamed David's name over and over and fell to the ground screaming."

Dean nodded. "Why didn't you tell anyone about what happened?"

"I was too frightened," Frank stammered. "I just panicked and drove away. And Steven never knew that I had seen the accident," Frank looked into the distance.

"Go on," Dean encouraged.

"Then the sheriff got involved because my mother reported David missing." Frank turned back to look at Dean. "The sheriff came and questioned Steven because Paul Johnson said he remembered seeing David up on Lake Road but he couldn't remember anything else. They searched but never found a body and assumed that David had either fallen or jumped so the sheriff closed the case," Frank sighed. "And Steven kept quiet. But then he just went kinda crazy. Like the guilt got to him. Doing crazy stuff. Driving too fast. Drinking. Nobody could talk to him and I didn't want him to know that I knew... and then... then he killed himself and I didn't want anyone to think that Steven killed David on purpose. I just wanted them to be remembered for who they were. They were great... kind and fun," he shrugged looking at Dean earnestly. "I know it sounds stupid but ... but the years just went by and no-one ever asked. Not even Hannah. So I didn't say anything."

Dean looked into the distance not able to imagine the years of pain and misery Frank had endured. His worry about Sam was increasing by the moment and he quickly went over his options in his mind. "Frank," he said gently.

"It's Steven up there isn't it?" Frank interrupted.

"I think so," Dean confirmed.

"I think I always knew," Frank said sadly. He looked around him. "But I always felt that David was here. It's like he's with me all the time. And not just in my dreams."

Dean started to pace up and down. "Frank," he stopped in front of the older man. "I want you to listen to me. And not say anything until I'm done. OK?"

Frank nodded giving Dean a small smile. "OK," he agreed.

Dean took a deep breath. "My brother and I hunt ghosts and a million other creepy kind of crap." He put his hand up as Frank opened his mouth to say something. "Why's not important. We just do." Frank nodded and remained silent. "We can lay Steven's spirit to rest but I need your help."

"How?" Frank asked.

Dean put his hands on his hips hating what he was going to say next. "We need to get rid of everything that belonged to Steven. And I mean everything," he looked past Frank to the Impala.

Horror filled Frank's face as he turned looking at the Impala knowing, deep down, what Dean meant. "No," he croaked putting both hands protectively on the car. Frank stroked his hands possessively over the paint work. He had promised David he would look after the car. It was his only link with the cousin he loved and the pain of losing the car was too great.

"Look Frank," Dean argued. "I know this is hard. It's hard for me too. But it has to be done. Sam and me looked it up. We need to help Steven. So he doesn't hurt anyone else. And the only way we can do that is getting rid of stuff that belonged to him. And go up to Lake Road and do some chants and throw some special herbs," he explained. "Then Steven can rest." He started to pace again. "Sam's up at Lake Road handling the book and herb stuff." He stopped in front of Frank again pleading silently with the man.

Frank stared at Dean studying the young man carefully. He could see that what he had suggested hurt him and Frank glanced back towards the car. "So what do we do?" he asked his voice cracking slightly.

"I'll take the car," Dean pronounced each syllable carefully so Frank understood that he didn't have to come along. "And swing by and check on Sam. Then," he let his words linger on the air.

"No," Frank said determined. "I'm coming too. I have avoided that road for over forty years. And it's about time I put the past where it belongs... in the past. And as for the car," he waved his hand at the Impala. "I need to be there. For David."

"OK," Dean nodded. "As long as you're sure." Frank glanced at the Impala and nodded.

"So you never went back up there?" Dean asked changing the subject. "Ever."

Frank shook his head. "No never. And neither has the Impala. I just couldn't bring myself to go up there after...well you know."

Dean nodded in sympathy as he pushed his holdall into the back seat of the car. "You wanna drive?" he cocked his head at Frank.

Frank shivered taking a step backwards. "No," he replied. "I can't. I'll come with you. But I'll leave the driving to you," he tossed the keys at Dean.

Dean slid into the driving seat as Frank cautiously lowered himself into the passenger seat. Dean turned the ignition and smiled reassuringly at Frank. He gunned the engine and headed the car out onto the road.

"It'll be OK," Dean reassured his nervous passenger.

"The car didn't really belong to Steven," Frank said quietly. "David's father gave it to him when he got his licence. Was the only kind thing that his old man ever did for him."

Dean looked confused turning sideways to look at Frank. "So the Impala didn't belong to both of them?"

"Yes and no," Frank replied. "Steven owned a Mustang that he used for racing. And David had the Impala. But they both drove the Impala. Sort of shared it as it came from them father. David thought it was only fair. But David loved it the most. It was his baby," he smiled at Dean. "But I think it was special because his father gave it to him."

Dean nodded in understanding. "This could change things," he gave a small smile. "We'll see what Sam has to say." Dean wondered if David had somehow become trapped in the Impala the night he died. It made a sort of sense to him. He loved the car. Dean knew that if he was going to be trapped as a ghost or spirit he would want to be in his Impala. Or with his brother, he admitted to himself. Dean looked across at Frank feeling sad because in a way Frank had been just as trapped as Steven and David his whole life ending when they had died.

He pressed his foot down on the gas pedal feeling the familiar roar of the engine as his speed increased. He smiled to himself feeling at home in the car. Dean hoped that with the car really belonging to David that he wouldn't have to burn the Impala. He just hoped that Sam would agree with him. He sighed and concentrated on the road ahead. "Thank you," a voice whispered in his head. Dean shook his head and turned towards Frank. Frank was staring distractedly out of the window lost in his own thoughts.

"The car is not talking to me," Dean repeated in his head over and over.

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and WB. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after Asylum (I'm pretending their father didn't call at the end of the episode!) and set before Scarecrow. Enjoy!

Final Chapter. Thank you again for all the lovely comments - it was really encouraging and much appreciated.

**BROTHERS**

**by Eryn Grant**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**  
**Dean and Sam and David and Steven**

Fifteen minutes later...

They reached Lake Road. Dean pressed his foot down on the gas pedal anxious to check on Sam. Without warning the engine died and they rolled to a halt. "Damn," Dean turned the key in the ignition.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked.

"I don't know," Dean glanced sideways frustrated. "It just died on me." The engine protested with a loud squealing sound as he turned the ignition over and over. "Son of a bitch," Dean banged his fist on the dashboard. "Don't do this to me." He took his hands of the steering wheel and flopped back in the seat frustrated. "I got a little brother up there that needs me," he whispered to himself.

"I'll take a look," Frank offered moving to open the door. Before he could step out of the car, the engine roared noisily into life. Frank shot a look at a surprised Dean who carefully put his foot on the gas pedal revving the engine. Dean grinned at Frank as he aimed the car up the road towards the bend at the top of the hill. As they neared the bend, Dean saw Sam standing close the edge. A figure was standing next to him hand on his shoulder. Sam seemed to be moving closer and closer to the edge.

Dean stamped on the brakes swerving the Impala onto the side of the road. Pushing open the door Dean jumped out of the car. "Sam," he screamed. He went to run towards his brother but stumbled dropping to his knees as something slammed into him from behind taking away his breath. Dean shut his eyes listening to the sound of his own ragged breathing. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt like he was drowning in cold sweat. His whole body tingled and he felt sick.

"Don't fight it," a voice said in his head.

"No," Dean gasped. He blinked trying to clear his vision. He could see Sam still standing on the edge of the cliff. "Got to get to Sam," he tried to get to his feet to move but his body wouldn't co-operate. "Sammy," he choked. He could feel his body going numb and he struggled against the feeling.

"If you fight the feeling, it will hurt you," the voice said reasonably. "And I don't want to hurt you."

"Son of a bitch," Dean felt himself shrug slightly and the voice seemed to laugh lightly in his head. "Who the hell are you?" Get outta my head," he demanded angrily.

"You know who I am," the voice replied. "You just drove my car."

"David," Dean breathed.

"Yes. And I need to help my brother," the voice whispered.

"And I need to help mine," Dean interrupted struggling to get control of his body. It hurt but he gritted his teeth against the pain. "Your brother is trying to shove my brother off a cliff."

"Please don't struggle," the soft voice persisted. "If you let me talk to Steven it might help your brother too. But I can't do it without you."

"You mean you can't do it without my body," Dean heard himself argue again.

"If you like," the voice said. "I've waited for more than forty years to be close to him again. If you let me talk to him I promise I'll let you go to Sam."

Dean battled to think about the proposition. His mind felt muddled and confused but he knew deep down that the spirit probably wouldn't let him go and guessed it would hurt less if he co-operated. Dean suspected that Frank had unwittingly kept David trapped in the Impala away from Steven by never driving the car and never taking it back to Lake Road. Strangely he didn't feel any fear sensing that David didn't really want to harm him. Dean couldn't help empathising with David knowing that the young man cared about Steven as much as he cared about Sam. He made his mind up. "OK," he breathed hoping he wouldn't regret his decision. "But watch how you treat this body. The ladies like it this way."

"Thank you," the voice said with a small chuckle.

Dean felt his body slump forwards onto his hands. His body was tingling with electricity and he felt a wave of tranquillity wash over him. For the first time in his life, Dean relaxed and let go.

"Dean," Frank shouted rushing to his side. "You OK?"

"Frankie," David muttered as he looked up into his cousin's blue eyes.

"What?" Frank fell backwards frightened. "I haven't been called that," he stuttered. Scrambling forwards he looked deep into the green eyes. He screwed up his eyes not believing what he saw. "David?" he said unsure. "Is that you?"

David smiled at him. "Long time Frankie," he reached up and touched the older man's face. "You looked after the Impala good."

Frank smiled. "I've missed you." He frowned. "David. I'm sorry. I should...," he stammered.

"I know," David said gently. "It's OK." He got to his feet slowly. David stretched not able to help looking down at the body he had inhabited. He nodded in approval. Even though it felt strange and alien to him it also felt strangely comfortable. He could feel Dean's essence, what made him the man he was. He was vaguely aware of the hurt and anger buried deep and he could feel the loneliness that Dean tried so hard to hide. But despite all of this David could sense that Dean was a good and gentle man fiercely loyal to his family and extremely protective of his brother loving him unconditionally. David smiled to himself knowing why he felt so comfortable, he shared an affinity with Dean - the love of a younger brother. He knew that he had been right to trust this man, he had felt it the first time Dean had sat in his car.

"Frankie," he turned to the older man. "You stay here. With the Impala. I don't want to spook Steven. OK?"

"Sure thing," Frank nodded. "Are you going to help Sam?" he asked worried as he started to move back towards the Impala. "And Steven."

"I'm going to help them both," David nodded as he took a cautious step towards Steven and Sam. "Steven," he called.

Steven turned on him glaring. "Who are you?"

"It's me David," he answered.

"Liar," Steven shouted and turned his attention back to Sam. "My brother is dead. He hates me for what I did. So he left me alone," he spat bitterly.

"It's really me," David said calmly. "I just got trapped in the Impala. And I couldn't come to be with you."

Steven turned back to stare. A flash of confusion crossed his face. "No," he said. "You're lying." He pointed his hand towards David and flicked his wrist. With a cry David was flung back onto the ground hitting his head hard.

"Well that worked out well," Dean cursed in his head. He could feel the pounding in his head. "And I thought I told you to watch the body. I'm kinda fond of it."

"OK," David grimaced as he struggled to sit up. He rubbed at his head as he struggled to focus on his brother. Steven had turned back to concentrating on Sam his hand still on his shoulder. Sam was still moving towards the edge of the cliff seemingly in a trance.

"Ouch," Dean cursed again. "I felt that." David ignored Dean continuing to rub at the back of his head. "Do it back to him," Dean suggested.

"I can't," David admitted quietly. "Steven's had forty years to perfect it. And I just sort of got trapped not able to do anything. I don't know why."

"Well that just sucks," Dean sighed. "Why do the little brothers always get the cool stuff."

David ignored Dean again as he got to his feet. "Steven," he called. "Please. It's really me. David."

"Oh for God's sake call him Stevie," Dean screamed in his own head. "Works every time with Sammy."

David smiled to himself. It had been so long that he had nearly forgotten. "Stevie," he put his hands out towards his brother. "It's really me. I promise."

"David," Steven bit at his lip confused. He took his hand from Sam's shoulder and took a hesitant step towards the stranger in front of him. He looked the man in front of him up and down and stared into his eyes searching for anything familiar. He frowned. "Where have you been? Why did you leave me alone?"

Sam's vision swam back into focus the minute Steven removed his hand from his shoulder. He looked down. Panicked Sam stepped well back from the cliff edge. He swayed slightly. Closing his eyes Sam battled to get himself under control. Opening eyes he saw his brother moving slowly towards Steven. "No," he shouted. "Don't. He'll try and kill you."

"He won't hurt me," David said confidently.

"I hope you're right," Dean whispered in his head. "Because my head still hurts and I'm gonna be real pissed if you're wrong." David chuckled to himself.

Sam frowned momentarily confused. It looked like Dean but the voice seemed strange and definitely wasn't Dean's. He shook off his doubts his brother was in trouble. "Dean," Sam rushed forwards. Steven waved his hand towards Sam. Sam cried out as his legs gave way sending him crashing to the road. "Dean," he tried to get to his feet. Steven waved his hand again forcing Sam onto the ground again. Sam felt a heavy pressure on his back and he gasped. "Dean was right," he thought to himself as he looked down the road to see the red Impala. "He's never gonna let me live it down." The pressure on his body seemed to increase and he cried out. Laying his head on his arms he struggled to get his breath.

"Don't let him hurt Sammy," Dean cried out. "Or the deal's off."

David could feel Dean struggling against the possession. "I won't let him hurt your brother," he reassured.

Dean continued to struggle. He could feel waves of pain coursing through him as he fought to get free. David swayed slightly as Dean fought him. "Trust me. I won't let him hurt Sam."

Dean had one last attempt at freeing himself. "You'd better not or ghost or no ghost you're both dead," Dean hissed angrily as he relaxed slightly.

"Stevie," David commanded. "Don't do that. He's just trying to help his brother. You'd do the same."

Steven scowled at David. "Now I know my brother is in there somewhere," he folded his arms across his chest. "But he stays where he is for the moment," he said defiantly.

"OK Stevie," David replied. "But don't hurt him. Let him breathe."

"It's Steven," the younger man snapped back. "And I won't for the moment." He released his hold of Sam allowing him to breath but kept him pinned to the ground. "But only because you asked," Steven pouted.

"I hate when little brothers do that," Dean said with a sigh.

David smiled at the comment. He turned his attention back to his brother. "But you'll always be Stevie to me," David said softly. "Nothing will ever change that."

"But you left me alone," Steven accused. "I thought if I came up here where... I... I ... it happened. You'd be here waiting for me," he frowned. "But you weren't here," Steven wailed. "And I've been so lonely without you."

"I couldn't," David moved closer to his brother. "I got myself trapped. I don't know how or why. And I've been lonely too. I've missed you too."

"But I killed you," Steven took a step away from his brother. "You have to hate me," he turned away tears springing to his eyes. "And I've hurt so many people. Because they were happy and had someone... and I didn't."

"Tell him you love him," Dean couldn't help prompting. "Tell him whatever he's done to you he's still your brother and you love him whatever. Tell him that's all that's important." And Dean knew at that moment that he believed it too. Whatever Sam had done to him or would do to him, Sam was his brother and he loved him whatever. It seemed to lift a great weight from within him.

David nodded with exasperation but knew that if he was in the same position as Dean he wouldn't be able to keep quiet. "I know," he said quietly to Steven. "But you're my brother and I love you whatever you have done. That has never changed. Never will change." He stepped even closer and took his younger brother in his arms. "And I could never hate you Stevie. It was just a stupid accident. I know you didn't do it on purpose."

"But I've killed other people," Steven pulled back from the embrace. "Because it hurt so much."

"I know," David said calmly. "But we'll work something out. I promise."

"Can I leave this place now?" Steven asked looking up at his brother.

David nodded. "But first let Sam go," he instructed. "And then we'll leave together. OK?" Steven nodded and looked towards Sam and flicked his wrist again. He turned back to his brother. "I wouldn't have hurt him."

Sam managed to get to his feet and moved cautiously towards the two young men. "Dean," he put his hand up towards his brother. Sam reached out and touched the familiar face. He frowned - his brother's skin seemed icy to the touch.

"He's OK," David said with a smile. "He's in here," he tapped his head.

"You better not have hurt him," Sam threatened angrily.

"I haven't. We had a deal," David replied. "He's fine. He helped me find my brother again. Even gave me some advice as to what to say to him. So I would never hurt him for helping me do that."

"Right," Sam didn't look convinced.

David laughed at the look on Sam's face. "Now that's a look I have seen many times," he looked towards Steven. He leaned closer to Sam. "Go easy on Dean. He'll talk about what happened to you both in the asylum when he's good and ready and not before." David touched Sam's arm. "And he loves you and wants to be close to you. Like you were when you were children. It's important to him."

"Oh jeez," Dean complained in his head. "Don't tell him that. He'll go all chick flick on me now." David chuckled quietly at the protest.

"He said that," Sam looked at him puzzled. "Dean wouldn't... You don't know Dean," Sam shook his head.

"Maybe not," David cocked his head to one side. "But I know big brothers. I'm one myself." David smiled at him and Sam smiled back despite his reservations. David turned to look down the road. He lifted his hand in a salute to Frank. Sam could see Frank smiling back as he lifted his hand to return the wave. "Thank you Dean," he whispered. "Take care of your brother."

"And you take care of yours," Dean replied. "You know how much trouble little brothers can get into when their big brothers aren't looking."

David chuckled. "One last favour and its all yours," he said. "Make sure that Frank drives the Impala. Persuade him to take Hannah on a road trip or something. Make him live again. For me. And tell him that I'm OK and so is Steven."

"I can do that," Dean replied. "Now get your ass outta my body."

Sam watched as Dean's body seemed to glow. He shielded his eyes against the light as a figure of a young man seemed to step away from Dean's body. Sam recognised the figure instantly from the photograph - David. David moved towards Steven. Putting his arm around Steven's shoulder they walked forwards together and disappeared.

Dean slumped to his knees with a groan. Sam rushed forwards. "Dean," he knelt in front of his brother. He shook Dean gently. "Dean," he repeated.

Dean looked up at Sam and grinned. "Now that was freaky."

"Are you OK?" Sam asked still worried.

"Fine," Dean replied. "You? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm OK," Sam said exasperated at his brother's worry. He got to his feet.

"Remind me not to get possessed again any time soon." Dean held his hand up and Sam pulled him to his feet. "It hurts like a bitch."

"Are you sure you're OK?" Sam danced around him as they headed towards the Impala.

Dean ignored him swatting away his hands. "Dude," he took a look at his dust covered car. "What did you do to my baby?" He glared at Sam

"I was meaning to tell you about that," Sam replied sheepishly.

* * *

Leaning lazily on the Impala Dean pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. Folding his arms across his chest he watched as Frank knelt by the grave and gently laid his flowers. Hannah stood behind him. Frank leaned forward and seemed to trace the names on the gravestone with a finger. Dean could just make out that the older man was smiling.

"Do you think he'll be OK?" Sam nudged his brother gently.

"Yeah I think so," Dean glanced sideways at Sam and smiled. "And he knows that Steven and David are together. Where they belong. I think that will help a lot. And he's got Hannah." He smiled at Sam again. "I think Frank is gonna be just fine. And he's got a classic car too," he teased pointing at the red Impala parked alongside his own Impala. "What more could a man want."

"I'm glad we didn't have to burn it," Sam said.

"Me too," Dean said looking at Sam. "It's got nothing on my baby," Dean patted his own Impala. "But I would have had nightmares for years."

Sam laughed lightly. He looked down at his feet kicking distractedly at the dirt. "Dean," he bit at his lower lip.

"You're gonna go all chick flick on me now, aren't you?" Dean said accusingly.

"No," Sam defended. Dean held his gaze not flinching. "Well OK a little bit," he admitted.

"Kill me now," Dean murmured as he rolled his eyes at Sam. He opened the Impala's door with a sigh. "OK let's get this over with," Dean grinned slightly. "Give it your best shot."

Sam looked down and then immediately up at Dean again. "I'm not gonna make you talk about it," he started to say.

"You're not?" Dean said surprised.

"No," Sam pulled a face. "We will talk about it but not now. I can wait," he gave Dean a small grin as his brother rolled his eyes again. He smirked at the expression. "I just... well... you don't think we'll end up like Steven and David do you?"

"Never happen," Dean replied confidently. Dean turned away from Sam. Raising his hand he waved at Frank and Hannah. They both waved back. He looked back towards Sam nodding at him to get into the car. Dean slid into the driver's seat. "Sammy," he glanced sideways as Sam folded his body into the passenger seat. "You'll never be alone. I'll always be there. No matter what. OK?"

Sam squinted at his brother studying his face carefully for evidence of a lie or Dean trying to hide his emotions. He was surprised to see that Dean's normally closed off expression was open and full of warmth and the tone of his voice held a hint of forgiveness in it. "OK," he grinned back at Dean feeling the frustration he had felt lately recede slightly.

Dean grinned back. Pushing his sunglasses back down, he turned the key in the ignition. "But you're not driving my car again," Dean quipped. "For at least five hundred miles. And at our next stop you are so washing and polishing it." Dean grinned at the look he knew Sam was pulling at him. He turned on the music and gunned the engine heading the Impala out of town towards the highway and the open road.

**END**


End file.
